No One Would Listen
by Shapeshifter89
Summary: No one would listen to poor Cicero...


**A/N: First Skyrim Fic, don't kill me.**

It was maddening! All the laughter, that maniacal laughter that tortured him; his tortured mind was in a haze of madness. It wouldn't leave him alone; it lingered and ingrained itself into his mind. There was no escaping it; through the silence he heard that frightening laughter that accumulated inside of him; that ate away at his very soul, leaving it mangled and barely recognizable. It was the only thing he could hear in this empty, and misnamed, "Sanctuary". The stony floor beneath him was cold as death; his own body becoming numb; his blood draining onto the gray stones. The lit torches flickered within the dark room as he heard his own breath slowly become weak and quiet as the laughter; that insane laughter, continued to plague his inner thoughts. Why couldn't he just die already and be free from the laughter? He wished that stupid dog would have been skillful enough with his claws to at least get the job done quicker. If he had died on contact from the talons of that beast, at least he would have been freed from the galling laughter that engulfed his very being. The laughter continued its mocking tone as he thought of the events that had transpired. He had failed his Mother; that strumpet Astrid had won. No one believed that what she was doing was wrong; that it was blasphemy.

No one would listen…

Why would they? Ever since he had entered the Falkreath Sanctuary, he felt so unwelcome. He was a mad jester, The Fool of Hearts, laughter incarnate; no one could take him seriously. They disliked him, shunned him; even the kind old wizard was far too busy to listen to poor Cicero. He tried his best to please them; getting ingredients for the un-child, sharpening the Argonian's blades, even retrieving certain spell books for the old curmudgeon wizard. Yet, though he did so many things, they still shunned him. He tried telling them of the Night Mother's wisdom and the reasons for the Old Ways; he was ignored.

No one would listen…

He loved to listen. He would give anything to be the Night Mother's listener, or even hear kind words from another person. He only had gotten threats and demands since had arrived and moved in with his "family". Oh, how he adored listening! When he was alone within his own solitude, keeping the Night Mother safe, he listened to all the silence. Hoping, praying that one day he could hear his beautiful Night Mother's voice. He spent years alone with her; oiling her, getting her flowers, protecting his dear Mother from harm. He loved her dearly, he would talk to her for hours sometimes; hoping she was listening to his never-ending pleas; begging her to speak to him. When only silence was the response, he had realized it.

No one would listen…

As the tears would fall from his eyes, the laughter; the jester's laughter came. His last contract had laughed as Cicero cut the last string of his life. That crazed and startling laughter… At first it was a distant and quiet; then each day it grew louder and louder, becoming a lurid and vigorous giggle that not only freed him from the silence but also frightened him completely. So he had gone to Falkreath to escape the laughter and find someone who could listen…

That's when he met her…

A stranger he met on the side of the road had assisted him when the wagon wheel of his cart had broken. Instead of refusing to talk to him like that cruel farmer, Lorieus, had done; she smiled at him and walked straight up to the farmer's door and demanded he assisted poor Cicero. Cicero had giggled at Lorieus cowering response, and saying he'd come to help quickly. Cicero had gotten out some gold for the kind stranger, but she stuck her hand up in a stopping gesture. He was puzzled, but she explained that she didn't need to be paid; that seeing Cicero happy was all she needed. Oh, how strange she was, but so kind! His amber orbs gazing into her eyes of emerald. He watched dumbfounded as the Nord mounted her silver stallion and continued on. Her medium length blonde hair flitting in the wind as her figure slowly disappeared from his view of sight. He hadn't known it then, but she would become the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood; the one who could hear the sweet words of the Night Mother and tell them to him. When she arrived in the Sanctuary she had spoken to him; sought him out for conversation, and he found himself conversing with her for hours on end. Laughing together, sitting together, listening to each other…

Listening…

She would listen as he spoke of his past and his solitude; the innermost secrets he possessed that only were found in his journals. As he would finish his dismal past, he would look at her; her disheartened face, the sadness within her glowing emerald eyes. She saw his loneliness, and how empty he was; how he was an outcast, but she would wrap her arms around him and comfort him; silencing the laughter, and filling the silence with her beautiful voice, and he found himself getting lost in her embrace…

She was listening to him…

His inner peace would be shattered; crumbled by the very person who had enjoyed her company: himself. Astrid was standing in front of everyone; insulting the Night Mother's name and mocking his position as her guard dog…He had attacked that witch Astrid for speaking foully toward their Lady, he couldn't control himself; he lashed out, but when that Argonian stepped in front of the blade; he couldn't believe it. They all looked at him with such cruel faces; anger and disappointment filled their actions and words…Everyone was taking her side; not even thinking about her invectives against the Night Mother. How could they so easily forsake their patron? They were against him; they didn't care about what he had to say; he fled.

No one would listen…

He sprinted away from that unforgivable place, the brooding wolf trailing him quickly. Through the forest he had gone; panting, sweating; trying to escape the indiscretion of the others. She had been returning from a contract; he didn't even notice her until he tumbled into her; unable to see her whole face from the Dark Brotherhood armor and cowl covering the lower half of her face. She looked surprised and he, to her shock, swiftly pinned her up against a tree, dagger up to her face, his other hand around her throat. His towering frame practically shrouded her small one in shadow; his eyes burned in anger and frustration. Why would no one listen to him?! He growled and looked at her in the eyes. Her eyes widened in fear and she shook uncontrollably as the air refused to go into her lungs. She reached up a shaky hand and placed it on her assailant's hand; her soft fingers grazing over his skin. Cicero's crazed scowl and burning eyes softened slightly. The fear in her eyes; held tears of sadness in them. As the first tear fell, his anger dissipated and he let go of her; realizing that she was afraid of him, that he had hurt her. She was terrified of him now; now he was alone… His heart filled with a terrible pain that flooded his emotions and he raced away; knowing that there was only one place he could go: Dawnstar. And now, as he laid here dying on the cold, stone floor; he thought about her and the fear within her glistening emerald eyes…

She would never want to listen to him again…

Tears filled his eyes; she had been the only one who had reached out to him, the one that made the mad laughter go away. She filled his empty heart; freeing him from his solitude. Now she feared and despised him; she wouldn't dare come near him again. She wouldn't embrace him, wouldn't fill his soul with the music of her voice; the very thing that brought light into his world of darkness and silence. He would no longer be comforted by her, or feel that pleasing and warm feeling that would flutter deep within his chest. He wouldn't be given kind words from her or see her beautiful smile. He could feel his life force draining; he knew he was done for. He shut his eyes tight and coughed up blood that smeared across the stony floor; his tears mixing with the red liquid…

No one would listen…

A creaking from the large wooden door came out from the impeccable silence. He opened his amber eyes; who was here? His strength had faded, but he felt a familiar presence enter the room slowly and his instincts took over, his last bits of strength used in turning his head in the direction of the oddly familiar presence. His eyes widened in astonishment; there she was, standing there in the doorway; her figure frozen from the sight she was seeing. His features began to become elegiac; he couldn't believe she was here. He wanted to turn away in shame, but a convulsing pain in his stomach caused him to wince and clutch his wound tightly. She shook from her frozen state and advanced to him hurriedly; holding on to him closely. She put her hand behind his neck to lift it up slowly, so he could see her properly; keeping her other arm around his waist as she hugged him close to her. He looked at her with confusion; Astrid had probably sent her here to kill him; why wasn't she sending him to the Void? He gazed into her wondrous eyes…they held tears in them; the salty droplets falling gracefully on his jester's motley. She took her hand and grazed his hair back out of his forlorn face; leaving her hand to cup his face; her gentle and soft skin comfortably rubbing his cheek. He felt that warm feeling burst through him again; her touch was like an angel, a beautiful and lovely angel that helped calmed his madness. The Listener had come for him; not to kill him, but for something else, and that puzzled him. What could she possibly want from him? He had nothing to give; surely she knew that, and even if she did, why did she still come? His eyesight began to cloud in a haze of darkness and he felt his eyelids lethargically shut. He could hear her fret and panic.

"Cicero? Please, oh gods, no! Don't leave me!" She laid his head down gently and looked at her blood-stained hands which quickly began to glow brightly. She placed the golden light on his stomach and began spouting some kind of incantation; sweat forming on her brow; feeling her magicka being drained quickly. The gaping wound had seemed to slowly disappear as the wound sew itself up; skin melding together as it had been before; color returning to the jester's burly face. Once she was completely drained, the golden light left; leaving her breathless and drained of energy. She looked with tired eyes on the man before her; she didn't move. She dared to touch him, but quickly retracted her hand back from the once silly man. After a few moments, she felt despair flow through her and tears flowed down her pretty cheeks. Covering her hands over her face she let out a few choked sobs. Pain seeped within her heart, and she lowered her head; her golden hair covering her forlorn features.

Cicero's eyes began to open slowly; hearing the weeps of an angel, he turned to the woman who kneeled; her hands covering up her lovely face. It was the Listener! He looked down to where the pain he had felt before mysteriously ceased; he realized that the wound was no longer there and he was perfectly healed. He looked to the Listener again; his face as confused as ever. Had…had she saved him? Healed him and now wept over his apparent loss? Was she crying for him? He stared in disbelief; he hadn't thought that anyone would be close enough to him to miss him when he was gone. She…was she close to him? Cicero started remembering all the times they had spent together. All the great fun they had had together; even when she held him close to her and rid him of his loneliness. He felt the greatest urge to comfort her, as she had comforted him once before. He cautiously reached a hand out to her; still weak from his previous scrape with death. His fingers grazed over the back of her hand and she shuddered; slowly removing her hands from her eyes; locking her stare with Cicero's amber pools. His lips formed a slight smile and his hand caressed her face without his control. Leaning into his touch she gave out a few chuckling sobs.

"Cicero…" she whispered, "I-I thought you were gone…" tears dripped down her reddened face. He stared at her curiously, in wonderment of how incredible the woman in front of him was, how kind, how she took away his sorrow; she was wonderful; his own angel.

"I didn't know anyone would care if I had died…" he said silently, his voice laced with sadness. Her eyes enlarged at this statement; surely he was mistaken?

"Why would you ever think that?" She questioned worriedly; instinctively leaning in closer.

"Because no one ever listened to poor Cicero; Cicero's personality is unappealing and therefore, no one wants to be near Cicero…but how Cicero longed for someone, anyone to listen to me…to talk to me; to free me from my overwhelming solitude that encased me in a shroud of darkness…to free me from this damned laughter…" Cicero stated shakily, not realizing that he was tearing up. She quickly wiped his tears away, and he returned back into reality. She looked at him with great pity and he looked back at her with a childlike disposition. "I…I just wanted someone to listen…but then a voice heard me…a lovely voice that saw my isolation. The voice was compassionate and kind and enjoyed listening to me…" he whispered to her in the empty room. She looked at him with a puzzled expression. He smiled dumbly and blushed slightly. "That melodious voice," he added, "belonged to you…Reza." Her eyes grew from the confession and her cheeks became florid in color. It was silent for a few moments, the flickering torches adding an orange glow to the small room.

"Cicero…?" she asked, breaking the silence. He looked at her hopefully.

"Yes?" he answered. She began to fidget uncomfortably.

"C-cicero…Does that mean that you…you…"

"What?"

"Like me?!" she sputtered out dumbly, but she coughed and took a deep breath. "I mean, do you…love me?" she continued in a hushed tone. Cicero searched his brain for the definition of the word. He knew what she meant by love, but he had never experienced in; at least he thought he hadn't. He thought about their times together and how he felt so happy when he was with her. She chased away the laughter and made that pleasant warm feeling fill his heart. She was the only person he truthfully cared about (besides the Night Mother). He came to the realization that she had indeed listened to him and didn't mind if no one else did; as long as she listened to him…

"Yes…" he said with confidence, "yes…I do…" she smiled and she couldn't keep her emotions in any longer; she crashed her lips with his allowing all the passion inside of her to be spoken through the intimate action. She had been waiting for those words since she had met him on the side of the road. She had been alone too; abandoned by her family and seldom happy to be with others, but she had felt so comfortable with her little jester, she felt comfort talking to him; as if it was natural. He taught her not to be afraid and she was astonished when she felt herself fall for him; she hadn't really expected to, but when he told his macabre story; revealing to her his troubled past. She realized that she had been struck by Mara's arrow and had deeply wished to be with her beloved jester for the rest of her days. Her tongue licked his bottom lip and he invited her tongue into his mouth where they heatedly explored each other's tongues. She moaned into his mouth and he savored the incredible taste of her love. He was filled with glorious happiness; words could not describe it. After all these lonely years he finally had someone who would listen to him; the Listener was _his_ Listener.

"_My _Listener…" he groaned as they continued their passionate action. His tongue glided over her own, gently exploring the wet cavern of her mouth. She straddled him; rummaging her fingers within his ginger locks. She separated from his mouth; tracing his jawline with her tongue and kissing his muscular neck; nibbling the soft, warm skin. He moaned with astounding pleasure. She continued sucking on his neck until a mark appeared. She chuckled at his little moans and looked at him deeply in the eyes. Amber orbs started back into her glowing emerald eyes.

"I love you Cicero…_my_ fool…" she said with genuine kindness; cupping one of his cheeks and meeting his lips with her own; their tongues continuing their exploit. He felt her hand creep beneath under his clothing and his own hands instinctively undo the leather binds of her Dark Brotherhood armor. The moments after that were clouded in a lusty haze. The warmth of their bodies; skin against skin; her loving touches, their voices as one as they consummated their new found love with one another; it all was magnificent. They now laid together, panting; covered with sweat. They both smiled contently as their eyes closed. Cicero wrapped his large arms around her as she snuggled into his warm body; growing drowsy and falling into content sleep. Cicero was filled with happiness. It didn't matter anymore to him. If no one in the world ever listened to him again, it wouldn't matter, because he had her and she him. They only needed one another, no one else mattered.

He finally had someone who would listen to him…her…

**Cicero is seriously hands down my favorite character in skyrim, besides myself that it :3 Reviews always appreciated. LOL YOU THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO WRITE ABOUT THE SEX! HA! SS don't write about that kind of stuff…yet *maniacal laughter***


End file.
